#576 


Bill 


SOLDIERS'  TRACT  ASSOCIATION, "»  tfo.  60. 

Richmond,  Va.  '/ 


THE  SOLDIER'S  BIBLE 


BY  REV.  WM.  M.  CRUMLY, 

CHAPLAIN    OF    GEORGIA   HCoPITALS,    RICHMOND. 


Among  the'vmultiplicity  of  knapsacks,  haversacks,  bundles 
and  old  clothes,  stored  in  one  of  the"  baggage  ro#ms  of  a  hos. 
pital  in  Richmond,  I  found  a  Soldier's  Bible.  In  ttois'mass 
of  seemingly  worthless  effects,  once  owned  by  our  brave  sol- 
diers who  had  died  in  the  hc^nital,  were  many  precious  relics 
intrinsically  worthless  and,  to  the  common  observer,  rather 
offensive,  being  soiled,  worn  and  strongly  tinctured  with  th$ 
pe3uliar  odor  of  the  camp.  Yet  each  article  is  a  precious  gem, 
a  link  in  the  bright  chain  of  memory  around  which  many  pain- 
fully pleasing  recollections  cluster. 
£  There  is  an  old  uniform,  hastily  made  by  a  mother  or  sister 
when  the  loved  one  rushed  at  his  country's  call  to  drive  back, 
the  invading  foe.  Here  ? re  the  accoutrements  of  war  that 
w,ere  buckled  cc  by  fair**nd  loving  hand>,  while  aa  earnest 
prayer  was  breatheu       '  ir  brushed  from  the  flushed 

cheek  of  a  devoted  ir  'uer,  who  whispered,  in  suppressed 
tones,  "Go,^my  son,  '.v*:ing  in  the  God  of  thy  fathers/' 
See  that  neat  little  ain-I  it  is  a  daguerreotype  taken  from 
that  coat  pocket — the '"y.  vkeb  nearest  the  wearer's  heart.  It 
was  a  noble,  warm  K  ..—the  heart  of  a  southern  soldier— 
1 


2  The  Soldiers  Bible. 

buj  now  it  lies  cold  and  silent  in  Oakwood  •  Cemetery,  that 
rich  mine  of  Southern  wealth. 

That  daguerreotype  v  Let  us  look  in  upon  that  modest  face, 
half-smiling,  half-blushing,  in  all  fhe  charming  besfaty  of  early 
womanhood  ;  her  large  liquid  eyes  are  the  very  soul  of  genius ; 
her  full  suit  of  dark  hair  is  thrown  back  from  a  loftj>  brow, 
white  and  pure  as  the  soul  within;  her  dress  is  exquisitely 
simple — a  close-fitting  black  silk,  With  a  Confederate  bow  on  a 
•bosom  as  true  to  the  honor  of  the  South  as  the  ocean  is  to  the 
rising  moon.  How  much  this  token  was  prized  by  the  former 
owner  may  be  inferred  from  the  well-worn  clasp,  and  that  the 
last  glance  of  his  dying  eyes  fell  on  it  as  it  dropped  fqpn  his 
trembling  hand,  all  moistened  with  the  cold  dew  that  distilled 
from  his  brow"  as  the  evening  twilight  of  death  closed  around 
him,  ancl  a  low  murmur  escaped  his  pale  lips,  farewell,  dear- 
est, beloved  only  less  than  my  Saviour. 

How  changed  is  the  original  since  the  bright  spring  morn-* 
ing  when,  with  Albert  by  her  side,  Jennie  left  her  beautiful    . 
thadow  on  the  chemical  plate — the  rose  is  faded  to  the  lily — 
the  bright  smile  that  played. on  her  sweet  face,  like  pure  water       * 
rippling  over  golden  sands,  has  spread  into -a  deep  calm  eddy, 
the  repose  of  confiding  faith,  reflecting  the  untold  glory  of  thel- 
heavenly  worlds  above,  while  the  eye  has  a  clearer,^  brigl#er  W 
fire  kindling  the  light  of  hope,  that  penetrates  tb^e  thick  gloom** 
of  the  great  hereafter.     -  '_.'•' 

In  th?  same  po«ket  with  the  daguerreotype,  I  found  thU 
Soldier's  Bible.  It  was  a  neat  London  edition,  with  a  silver 
clasp,  on  which  was  engraven  the  initials  A.  L.  C.  On  the 
fly-leaf  was  written,  in  a  neat  and  delicate  hand,  "  A  present 
to  my  dear  son,  oif  his  fifteenth  'birthday,  from  his  mother, 
M.  A.  C.  Below  was  written,  in  the  same  hand,  "  Search  the 
Scriptures:  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life,  and 


The  Soldiers  Bible.  8 

they  are  they  which  testify  of  Me"     "  Remember  now  thy 
Cfeator  in  ^he  days  of  thy  youth/'     "If  sinners  entice  thee/ 
consent  thou  not." 

The  book  had  the  appearance  of  being  carefully  read,  there 
being  many  chapters  and  verses  marked  with  pencil,  as  though 
they  had  strongly  impressed  themselves  on  the  mind  of  the 
young  reader.  Among  them  were  the  chapters  which  describe 
the  heroic  daring  of  the  youthful  David,  the  saintly  purity  of 
Joseph,  and  the  unflinching  fidelity  of  the  three  captive  boys 
at  the  court  of  Babylon.  The  first,  twenty-third  and  fifty-first 
Psalms  bore  marks  of  an  interested  reader.  In  the  New  Tes- 
tament such  Scriptures,  as  speak  of  the  love  of  Go4  to  sin- 
ners, were  carefully  noted  :  "  G>d  so  loved  the  world  that  he 
gave  His  only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  Isajah,  i.  18: 
"  Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as 
snow :  though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as 
wool."  At  this  remarkably  encouraging  promise  was  a  large 
blood  stain,  as  though  gory  fihgeis  had  been  tracing  out  every 
word;  also  at  John  xiv.  1,  2 — "Let  not  your  heart  be  trou- 
bled :  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions" — were  the  same  stains  of  still 
broader  and  deeper  dye. 

Some  of  the  incidents  in  the  life  and  death  of  the  soldier, 
who  owned  the  Bible  we  have  just  examined,  may  prove  inte- 
resting and  useful  to  our  readers. 

Albert  wa^4he  only  son  of  a  pious  and  wealthy  planter  of 
the  South.  Most  of  his  time  during  his  childhood  was  spent 
in  the  country  on  his  father's  plantation.  The  little  white 
cottage  was  half  buried  in  evergreens  and  richly  festooned 
with  fragrant  vines,  among  which  the  wild  birds  nestled  and 
sang  their  sweetest  melodies.     On  the  hill,  at  the  end  of  a 


4  The  Soldier's  Bible. 

• 
long  avenue,  stood  the  quiet  country  church,  where-  little  Al- 
bert, accompanied  by  bis  parents,  sister  and  aged  grandmother, 
met  the  families  and  children  of  the  neighborhood  to  spend  an 
hour  in  Sabbath  school,  and  then  listen  to  the  reverend  man 
of  Grod,  who  preached  to  them  the  precious  Word  of  the  Lord. 
Here  and  around  the  family  altar,  Albert  received  that  moral 
training  which  laid  a  deep  and  broad  -foundation  for  a  charac- 
ter, in  many  respects,  worthy  of  imitation  by  all  who  may  read 
this  simple  narrative.  In  the  Sabbath  school,  Albert  first 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  little  Jennie,  neatly  dressed  in  a  ^ 
white  muslin  with  a  blue  sash,  who  afterwards  became  the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  Miss  S.,  whose  daguerreotype  we 
found  in  the  soldier's  coat* pocket.  Sh*  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  his  sister  Hattie,  and  often  his  successful  competi- 
tor for  prizes  offered  by  the  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath 
school. 

In  the  year  1856,  Albert  was  sent  to  college  to  complete 
his  education,  and  Jennie  went  to  a  female  institution  of  high 
grade  to  mature  hef  classical  studies. 

A  few  notes  that  ran  the  college  blockade  and  .vacation 
meetings  sufficed  to  keep  up  their  acquaintance  and  friendship. 
In  the  summer  of  1860,  they  both  graduated  with  honors  ■ 
highly  creditable  to  them  and  gratifying  to  their  friends.  On 
their  return  home,  early  attachments  ripened  into  something 
more  than  friendship ;  but  scarcely  had  the  bright  vision  of 
hope  dawned,  when  it  was  overcast  by  the  dark  cloud  of  war 
that  suddenly  arose  upon  our  horizon.  The*«ountry  called 
the  brave  young  men  from  every  quarter  to  rally  in  Southern 
prowess,  and  with  battle  shock  roll  back  the  invading  foe. 
Albert  was' one  of  the  first  to  respond.  He  took  his  place  in 
the  ranks  as  a  common  sol'drer/feeling  it  was  houor  onough#to 
be  a  private,  defending  his  country,  his  home  and  his  beloved- 


The  Soldier's  Bible.  5 

Jennie;  and  all  the  more,  as  he  had  her  approving  smile  to 
encourage  him.  # 

Albert's  departure  and-  transfer  to  Virginia  by  rail  are 
scenes  so  common  to  soldiers,  that  they  can  be  imagined  or 
remembered  far  better  than  I  could  describe  them. 

There  is  one  incident,  however,  which  I  will  mention : 
Just  before  he  took  lea  ver  they  were  all  called  around  the  old 
family  altar.  Jennie  was  there.  Maum  Patty,  the  nurse  of 
his  chTldhood,  was  there,  with  snow-white  kerchief  about  her 
ebon  brow  and  silver  locks.  Many  were  the  bitter  sobs,  while 
the  deep,  earnest  voice  of  the  father  in  solemn  prayer,  like  the 
patriarch  Abraham,  bound  his  son,  his  only  son,  a  sacrifice  on 
his  country's  attar;  the  victim  was  covered  with  a  rich  gar- 
land of  warm  embraces,  gemme'd  with  many  a  burning  tear; 
when  the  amen  was  pronounced,- there  was  in  all  a  feeling  far 
"  too  deep  for  utterance.  In  this  moment  of  ominous  silence;  a 
mother!s  hand  placed  the  Soldier's  Bible  in  a  pocket  near  his 
"heart.  Albert  moved  slowly  down  the  avenue,  the  embodi- 
ment of  youthful  chivalry  and  manly  beauty.  The  spectators 
stood  like  breathless  statues,  fearing,  most  of  all,  they  would 
see  his  face  no  more.  Just  as  he  turned  the  corner  at  the  end 
of  the  avenuef  he  cast  one  glanee  back  to  the  scenes  of  his 
childhood,  which  never  before  seemed  half  so  dear.  It  is  the 
last  sight — he  will  see  them  no  more  forever ! 

His  first  night  in  camp  was  a  trying  one,  surrounded,  as  he 
was,  by  many  that  were  thoughtless  and  gay,  as  if  they  were 
merely  on  a  holiday  campaign ;  but  Albert  was  more  serious 
and  felt  that  he  must  maintain  his  religious  character,  and  that 
to  begin  right  was  of  great  importance  in  his  new  position. 
By  the  camp-fire  he  read  a  chapter  in  his  Bible  and  knelt  on 
the  ground  and  prayed,  covered  by  the  silent  heavens  that 
looked  down  with  a  thousand  starry  eyes  on  the  lone  worship- 


6  The  Soldier's  Bible. 

per,  surrounded  by  tlje  glare  of  camp-fires  and  the  hum  of  the 
multitude,  that  rose  on  the  night  wind  like  the  voice  of  many 
waters,  and  died  away  among  the  distant  hilW.  After  a  long 
and  uncocafortable  transit  by  rail  and  forced  marches,  with 
weary  limbs  and  blistered  feet,  he  was  thrown  into  the  battle 
of  Manassas,  on  the.  21st  of  July,  1861,  with  scarcely  time  to 

*  kneel  by  an  apple  tree  in  battle  line,  over  which  the  shells 
were  howling  furiously.  Here,  in  prayer,  he- hastily  commit- 
ted his  soul  and  body  to  his  faithful  Keeper,  then  rose  calm 
and  serene,  with  an  assurance  that  -no  weapon  of  the  enemy 
would  harm  hia*. 

When  the  battle  was  over  and  victory  perched  upon  our 
banner,  Albert  found  himself  surrounded  with*  the  dead  and 

'  dying,  among  whom  were  some  of  bis  particular  friends.  He 
was  strongly  and  strangely  exercised  with  a  mingled  feeling 
of  joy  and  grief,  a  sort  of  hysteric  paroxysm  of  laughing  and 
crying^ weeping  for  the  slain,  and  rejoicing  that  he  had  es- 
caped unharmed,  with  a  deep  consciousness  that  God  had 
been  his. shield  and  hiding-place  in  the  hour  of  danger.  Al- 
bert endured  all  the  sufferings  of.  fatigue,  cold  and  hunger  in- 
cident to  a  winter  campaign ;  none  murmured  less,  none  were 
more  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  duty  than  he.  »  The  demoral- 
izing effects  of  the  camp^  with  almost  the  entire  absence  of 
religious  privileges,  produced  a  coldness  in  his  state;  and 
although  he  flid,  not  compromise  his  moral  character  by  pro- 
fanity, gambling  and  drunkenness,  as  many  others  did,  yet  he 
failed  to  enjoy  the  close  communion  and  clear  sense  of  the 
Divine  presence  which  he  had  done  in  former  days.  In  this 
state  of  mind,  he  entered  upon  the  seven  days  battles  before 
Richmond.  The  solemnities  of  the  occasion  aroused  him  to 
a  sense  of  his  danger,  causing  him  to  cleave  more  closely  to 
his  Bible  and  its  precious  promises.     With  his  hand  on  this 


* 
The  Soldier's  Bible.  .        7 

blessed  book  pressed  to  his  heart,  he  called  on  God  to  be  his 
shield  and  support  in  the  hour -of  battle.  He  passed  the  ter- 
rible ordeal  of  Graines*  Mill  on  Friday,  and  Malvern  Hill  on 
Tuesday,  where  the  men  ftll  around  him  like  grain  before  the 
reapers,  and  covered  the  ground  thick  as  Autumn  leaves.  A 
degree  of  joy  and  gratitude  swelled  his  heart  as  he  surveyed 
the  field  of  death,  in  view"  of  his  own  wonderful  escape,  but 
not  so  deep  and  warm  as  on  a  former  occasion,  when  his  faith 
And  piety  were  more  earnest  and  simple,  Albert  continued 
at  times  to  read  his  Bible :  but  it  was  evidently  more  as  a 
task  than  %  pleasant  duty,  his  keen  relish  for  divine  things 
had  abated  very  much  ;  the  excuses  of  camp  life,  long  marches, 
and  the  general  indifference  of  officers  and  men  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  offered  his  conscience  the  consolation  of  a 
temporary  opiate.  Sometimes,  however,  on  the  reception  of 
letters  from  home,  and  sometimes  when  alone  on  his  midnight 
round  of  picket  duty,  he  would  shed  a  penitential  tear,  and 
resolve  to  double  his  diligence  and  regain  his  lost  ground  as 
a  Christian ;  but  a  plant  so  tender  and  unprotected  by  the 
pale  of  the  Church,  unwat*red  by  the  dews  of  the  sanctuary, 
persecuted  and  scathed  by  the  lightnings  of  contempt,  nipped 
and  browsed  upon  by  every  wild  beast  of  the  forest,  neces- 
sarily became  greatly  dwarfed  in  life  and  growth ;  a  feeling  of 
self-security,  a  trust  in  fate  or  chance,  impressed  him  more 
than  a  simple  faith  in  the  ever-present  God.  In  this  spiritu- 
ally demoralized  condition,  he  entered  the  Sljarpsburg  fight, 
without  even  asking  God  to  protect  and  save  him  from  danger 
and  death.  Soon  after  the  battle  opened,  he  was  struck  by  a 
ball,  and  carried  back  to  the  rear  a#wounded  man;  from  pro- 
fuse hemorrhage,  a  sick,- .dreamy  sensation  stole  over  him  ;  the 
light  facfedjrom  his  eyes ;  while  a  thousand  mingled  sounds 
filled  his  ears,  and  a  faint  vision  of  home,  friends,  green  turf, 


8  The  Soldier's  Bible. 

battle-fields  and  grave-yards  flitted  by  like  phantoms  of  the 
nigh't.  With  returning  consciousness,  there  came  a  sense  of 
shame  and  sorrow*  for  haviDg  declined  in  his  religious  state, 
and  a  conviction  that  his  wound  was  the  chastening  of  the 
Lord,  to  rebuke  his  wanderings  and  check  his  self-reliance. 

As  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  restored,  he  drew  from  his 
pocket  his  neglected  Bible,  kissing  it  many  times  over,  and 
bathing  it  in  tears,  as  truly  penitential  as  Peter  when  he  wept 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  His  bloody  fingers  searched  out  the  old* 
cherished  promises  of  God,  leaving  many  a  gory  stain  on  the 
blessed  pages  of  inspiration.  The  law  of  the  Lord  again  be- 
came his  meat  and  his  drink,  on  which  he  feasted  by  day  and 
by  night;  a  new  life  was  infused  into  bis  soul,  which  enabled 
him  to  bear  his  sufferings  with  true  Christian  heroism. 

In  this  condition,  I  found  him  in  the  old  Academy  Hospital 
in  Winchester,  lying  on  the  dirty  floor,  with  a  blanket  for  his 
bed  and  a  wisp  of  straw  to  pillow  up  his  wounded  limb.  While 
sitting  by  his  side,  trying  to  minister  to  his  soul  and  body,  I 
received  from  him  this  narrative  substantially  as  I  have  given 
it  to  you.  After  much  severe  suffering,  when  our  army  fell 
back,  he  was  sent  to  Staunton  and  thence  to  Richmond,  where 
I  again  met  him' just  in  time  to  witness  his  last  triumphant 
conflict  with  suffering  and  death.  He  was  in  a  hospital,  re- 
clining on  a  clean,  comfortable  bed),  his  head  resting  on  a  soft, ' 
white  pillow,  on  which  the  familiar  name  of  a  distinguished 
lady  of  Georgia  was  marked — she  having  contributed  it  from 
her  own#  bed  for  the  benefit  of  the  suffering  soldiers.  Near 
him  sat  the  matron  of  the  hospital,  rendering  every  possible 
.comfort  that  the  sympathyof  a  woman  could  suggest,  intensely 
sharpened  by  the  recent  loss  of  a  promising  son,  who  fell  in  a 
late  battle.  Reduced  by  a  secondary  hemorrhage  and  ampu- 
tation, Albert,  with  a  calm,  steady  faith,  came  down  to  the 


The  Soldier' £  Bible.  9 

*%■ 

cold  waters  of  Jordan,  where  lie  lingered  for  a  snort  time,  and 
dictated  a  letter  to  his  mother,  which  I  wrote  for  him,  in  which 
lie  gave  an  appropriate  word  to  each  one  of  the  family,  not 
eve^forgetting  Maum  Patty,  his  old  nurse,  and  reserving  a 
postscript,  the  last  and  best,  for  Jennie.  I  would  like  very 
much  to  give  my  readers  a  copy  of  this  letter,  but  it  is  the 
exclusive  treasure  of  the  bereaved  and  afflicted  ones,  whose 
grief  is  too  sacred  for  the  intermeddling  of  any  save  the  most 
intimate  friends.  After  pausing  a  few  moments  at  the  close 
of  the  letter,  he  seemed  self-absorbed,  and  soliloquized  thus : 
I  die  for  my  country  and  the  cause  of  humanity,  and,  with 
many  others,  have  thrown  my  bleeding  body  into  the  horrid 
chasm  of  revolution  to  bridge  the  way  far  the  triumphal  car 
of  Liberty,  which  will  roll  over  me,  bearing  in  its  long  train 
the  happy  millions  of  future  generations,  rejoicing  in  all  the 
grandeur  of  peace  and  prosperity.  '  I  wonder  if  they  will  ever 
pause  as  they  pass  to  think  of  the  poor  soldiers  whose  bones 
lie  at  the  foundation  of  their  security  and  happiness?  Or 
,  will  the  soul  be  permitted  from  some  Pisgah  summit  ty  take 
a  look  at  the  future  glory  of  the  country  I  died  to  reclaim 
from  fanatical  thraldom  ?  Will  the  soul  ever  visit  at  evening 
twilight  the  scenes  of  my  childhood,  and  listen  to  the  sweet 
hymn  of  praise  that  goes  up  from  the  paternal  altar  at  which 
I  was  consecrated  to  God?  Though  unseen,  may  it  not  be 
the  guardian  angel  of  my  loved  one  V*  Checking  himself,  he 
said :  "These  are  earthly  desires,  which  I  feel  gradually  giv- 
ing way  to  a  purer  heavenly  sympathy."  Then,  in  a  low, 
sweet  voice,  lie  repeated  :     • 

•'Give  joy  or  grief,  give  ease  or  pain,  * 

Take  life  or  friends  away, 
So  I  but  find  them  all  again 
In  that  eternal  day." 


10  The  Soldier's  Bible. 

He  repeated  the  last  line  with  an  emphasis  that  threw  a 
beauty  and.  force  into  it  which  I  never  saw  or  felt  before. 
Seeing  that  he  was  communing  with  his  own  soul,  and  that 
spiritual  things  in  the  opening  light -of  eternity  were  rising  in 
bold  relief  before  his  vision  of  faith,  I  withdrew  a  short  space 
from  him,  feeling  it  was  holy  ground,  "where  the  good  man 
meets  his  fate,  quite  on  the  verge  of  heaven."  He  then  gently 
laid  his  hand  on  his  Bible  and  the  daguerreotype  that  lay  near 
his  side,  and  amid  this  profound  stillness,  surrounded  by  a 
halo  of  more  than  earthly  glory,  gently  as  the  evening  shadows, 
the  curtain  dropped,  leaving  nothing  visible  to  us  but  the  cold 
and  lifeless  clay,  on  which  a  sweet  smile  rested,  as  though  it 
had  seen  the.hapgy  soul  enter  the  pearly  gates  of  the  New 
Jerusalem.  Thus,  far  from  home  and  friends,  this  nobleyouth 
fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  swelling  the  long  list  of  the  honored  dead; 
but,  "though  dead,  he  yet  speaketh."  The  precious  treasure, 
"  The  Soldier's  Bible"  has  been  returned  to  the  family,  and 
is  now  one  of  those  valued  relics  that  bind  many  sad  hearts 
with  links  of  gold  to  by-gone  days. 

Now,  my  dear  fellow-soldier,  I  leave  with  you  this  simple 
narrative,  without  comment  or  application,  hoping  that  you 
may  find  something  in  it  to  interest,  instruct  or  encourage  you 
while  performing  the  Honorable,  yet  responsible  and  arduous, 
duties  of  a  soldier.  -  - 


There  is  Sweet  Best.  11 


THERE  IS  SWEET  REST, 


Come,  soldiers,  don't  grow  weary, 
But  let  us  suffer  on ;  . 

The  moments  will  not  tarry —   '  ■ 
Thfs  strife  will  soon  be  done. 

The  passing  scenes  all  tell  us 

,    That  petice  will  shortly  come: 

Our  banners  wave  in  triumph 
O'et  every  Southern  home. 

There  is  sweet  rost  for  you. 

We  never  will  grow  weary,. 

But  battle  to  the  end, 
And  trust  in  God  and  Davis 

Our  country  to  defend. 
The  battle-fields  all  round  us 

Are  red  with  human  gore, 
Where  friend  and  foe  together 

All  sleep  to  wake  no  more.    • 

There  is  sweet  rest  for  them. 

And  when  we  close  this  warfare, 

That  sets  our  country  free,  * 
We'll  change  the  swords  to  plough-shares 

That  won  our  liberty. 
Then  crowned  with  fadeless  honor 
-  To  AWul  life  return, 
Till  the  evening  shadows  darken 
Our  quiet  Southern  homes. 

There  is  sweet  rest  in  Heaven. 


12  My  Bible. 


* 


MY   BIBLE 


This  book  is  all  that's  left  me  now ; 

Tears  -  will  unbidden  start — 
"With,  faltering  lip  and  throbbing  brow 

I  press  it  to  my  heart.  • 
For  many  generations  past, 

Here  is  our  family  tree : 
My  mother's  hands  this  Bible  clasp'4 — 

She,  dying,  gave  it  me. 

My  father  read  this  holy  book 

To  brothers,  sisters  dear  : 
How  calm  was  my  poor  mother's  look, 

Who  lean'd  God's  word  to  hear.  ' 
Her  augel  face — I  see  it  yet! 

What  thronging  memories  come  1 
Again  that  little  group  is  met 

Within  the  halls  ef  home. 

Thou  truest  friend  that  man  ever  knew, 

Thy  constancy  I've%tried ; 
Where  all  were  false  I've  found  thee  true — 

My  counsellor  and  guide  !  % 

The  mines  of  earth  no  treasures  give 

That  could  this  f  oltftne  buy  ;       -  '  . 
In  teaching  me  the  way  to  live,     9» 

It  taught  me  how  to  die. 

Soldiers'  Tract  Association,  M.  E.  Church,  South. 


Hollingpr 

pH  8.5 

Mill  Run  F03-2193 


